Sadness hangs from me like overripe fruit from a tree. Why must we lose people. Thus leads to the question: what’s the point of it all anyway; if we lose everyone in the end, including ourselves, then what could possibly be the point.
Sadness. It overwhelms. I feel as though I’ve met my quota of loss for one life. I cannot possibly handle any more. And yet, according to statistics, I have over half (or possibly even two thirds) of my life ahead of me. Future loss of close individuals is inevitable. And yet, it feels overwhelmingly intolerable. I cannot lose another soul who I care about. Does this make me weak? Overly sensitive? Human?
Perhaps my heart is too fragile. More fragile than most?
Sadness. Runs down my sides like water from a beautiful fountain. And yet I’m not beautiful am I. And neither is my sadness. Cruel, perhaps. But not beautiful. And me? Just another casualty of an over-hardened world.
Please accept my apologies: I’m feeling a bit overly sensitive tonight. And, as if it weren’t glaringly obvious, weighed down with sadness.